


Where My Heart Lies

by poisontaster



Series: Every Broken Thing [22]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Brooding, Ficlet, M/M, Sibling Incest, Sleeping Together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-02
Updated: 2006-06-02
Packaged: 2018-05-12 05:44:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5654587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poisontaster/pseuds/poisontaster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The aftermath of their time at Missouri's.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where My Heart Lies

**Author's Note:**

> This was written in the hiatus between S1 & 2 and isn't canon compliant. Play along.

Dean wakes up all at once. _Lurches_ up, actually, his chest tight and hurting, his breath breaking off somewhere in his throat so that he feels half-strangled and blue with lack of oxygen. Where…? What…?

He expects to be alone.

He expects it because that's how he's woken every night for the last month or more, feeling like this. Feeling trapped and hounded and so lonely it's like being the last person in the world. Which is why it's weird to be brought up short by the weight of something—someone—on his arm. Sam.

_Sam._

And then it all comes flooding back.

Missouri, with her big lips pressed small and tears running out her eyes. Missouri, looking at him like he was just about the lowest thing to crawl out of the sea and him not really being able to disagree with her, standing there holding Sam's hand for God and everyone to see. Missouri, who knew Dean was fucking his own brother.

Dean looks down at Sam, curled up small in the arc of Dean's body. For such a tall bastard, he always seems to fit just right against Dean, their bodies finding some weird balance of comfort without having to even think about it too much. It's always been like that with them, Dean thinks, through years of sharing beds for various reasons. Sam fits him, like he was always supposed to be there and for as much as Dean loathes himself for being such a weak-ass punk, it's killed him not to have Sam there next to him. It's killed to have this artificially imposed distance between them and nothing in him to bridge the gap. Not with Missouri's eyes on him all the time. Not with his father's voice in the back of his head all the time.

"She was only trying to do what's right," he'd told Sam.

"I know," Sam had whispered back. "That's what scares me."

And what could Dean say to that? How could he even pretend to have a semblance of decency, of…of…ethics if he was willing to walk out of Missouri's house and into this hotel room, just so he could lie down next to Sam again? To whom, exactly, could he explain, _but my incest is different_?

No one. No one at all.

"Dean—" Sam stirs, sliding sleepy and slowly until he's nestled back against Dean again. His voice is only a sloppy slur, Dean's name barely recognizable. Sam reaches back and pats Dean's bare flank with one hand absently, fingertips gliding over the flesh. "I'm the brooder, man. Go to sleep."

Dean sighs. He hates it when Sam catches him at this, almost as if he'd caught him jerking off. Hell, he'd _rather_ Sam caught him jerking off. But the truth is, it's for nothing anyway. He chose Sam and Sam chose him and at the end of it all, Dean would do it all over again.

Dean buries his face in the back of Sam's neck, the curling ends of Sam's hair tickling and soft over his cheeks. Sam smells like sweat and sex and shampoo and Dean. Dean closes his eyes and slides his arms over Sam's waist. Sam murmurs again, already most of the way back to sleep, and puts his arm over Dean's holding him in place.

As he always does.


End file.
